Page 8 of Just Say Yes

Whip

In that case, think you can get us an autograph?

GOODBYE.

* * *

“Well, don’t you look pretty!”Carol flipped a lock of my hair as she walked by.

I scoffed, smoothing a hand over the soft curls I’d added that morning. “What are you talking about?”

Carol leaned over the nurses’ desk, resting her chin on her hands and blinking innocently. “I mean the fact you curled your hair and are wearing makeup. That doesn’t have to do with a certain thick-thighed rugby player, does it?”

“Of course not. I couldn’t sleep, so I had some time to kill this morning. It’s nothing.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, clearly not believing my obvious lie. “God, if I were twenty years younger, I’d give my left tit to take him for a ride.”

A laugh erupted from deep within my chest. “I don’t know, maybe he’s into older women.” I popped a fresh piece of mint gum into my mouth. I knew Carol was joking, but it still didn’t stop the irrational spike of jealousy that poked at my ribs. “Maybe you should shoot your shot.”

She sighed wistfully. “I wish.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you think my husband would understand?”

I giggled. “Poor Dub.” Carol’s husband, William—or as he was known in town, Dub—was the sweetest man. He literally worshipped the ground she walked on.

Carol clicked her pen and scribbled something as she spoke. “I’m telling you, Beth was absolutelysalivatingover him after he left.”

I rolled my eyes. “I bet. I’m sure she saw nothing but Olympic gold-medal-size dollar signs.”

Carol leaned in. “I think he only had eyes for you,” she said. “After you left, he practically ran out of Mr. Brown’s room, looking for you. I distracted Beth so she wouldn’t ruin all your fun.” She inched closer to whisper. “You’re welcome.”

I recalled our exchange the night before, and a tingle danced down my spine.

Carol’s eyes went wide with glee. “He showed up, didn’t he?”

I flipped through the chart in my hands, trying to forget about how all my friends witnessed our interaction and hounded me all night for more information. “Of course he showed up. Arthur is the most meddlesome old man I’ve ever met. We’ve talked about the Bluebirds before, so I’m sure he told his grandson where I would be.”

She tapped her fingers in front of her and did a little shimmy. “Did he drag all that masculine energy up there, burst through the door like a starving man, and proclaim his desire in front of everyone?”

I looked her over and laughed. “You read too much.”

Her nose wrinkled. “That’s fair.” She slapped a cardboard file folder onto the counter. “I’m just living vicariously through you. Dub’s idea of romance is a bucket of fried chicken and a six-pack of Budweiser.”

I smiled at my friend with a shrug. “I mean, at this point, I’d take that.”

“See!” Carol encouraged. “You need to get out there. Meet a handsome stranger. Maybe go for a mustache ride and make a few bad decisions.” Her eyebrows waggled, and her shoulders shimmied like bad decisions were the best part of the whole plan.

Trouble was, bad decisions had consequences. Like leading a man you’d been dating to think you were ready for more than you were.

I would know.

I turned to Carol, noting on my watch that I was already late for my rounds. “Look, I have no interest in Mr. Brown’s grandsonorhis mustache rides.”

Carol’s smile froze.

Her eyes went wide as they flicked above me and back down again. My blood ran cold as a cavernous pit opened in my stomach.

I stared at her. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

Her mischievous grin widened as she grabbed the folder from my hands. “I’ll make these rounds for you!”

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